


Stórie's Nemesis

by PenDragonInkus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: First Quidditch Match, Guess what that means?, M/M, Mostly just Merlin trying to keep Stórie from eating the Snitch, Stórie has met her match, The Snitch Is A Little Bitch (TM), Who's the Seeker here Harry or Stórie? Few can tell, You Had One Job Merlin, spoiler alert: he fails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:53:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22987417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenDragonInkus/pseuds/PenDragonInkus
Summary: Stórie growls on Merlin's shoulder as far away from Arthur as she can get and says you humans need a stick to do a backflip? Watch this before crouching slightly on Merlin's shoulder (once she knew she had his attention) and doing a neat backflip, landing exactly where she took off with minimal clawing of Merlin's robes (he'd started complaining about the six neat slashes on his shoulders from her claws, to which she replied not cat, can't retract). After clapping at his dragon's trick and leaving her puffed out with pride on his shoulder, Merlin turns back to Arthur.xxxxxIf you're a new reader, welcome! I'm sure you're extremely confused. You can read my other story "The Avoid Harry Potter Club - Year One" if you want, but it's not imperative, basically all you need to know is Stórie is a character I made up, Merlin's pet, a little golden dragon with more attitude than the entire cast of Merlin put together...
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	Stórie's Nemesis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HicSuntDracones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HicSuntDracones/gifts).



> Hi guys, I'm back at last! I just decided to write something related but unrelated to Avoid Harry Potter Club - Year One to get back into the swing of things, and, well, this happened. It kind of wrote itself (after twenty minutes of planning)... I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thanks to: HSD, my best friend and confidante, Capps, Murphy and the BBC for creating Merlin, James and Morgan for bringing Merlin and Arthur to life better than anyone could've asked for, and Emberley, the family's kitten for giving me the outline of what to base Stórie on (a female kitten with attitude.)

It's the first Quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor vs Slytherin. Merlin is at the front of the Slytherin stands, watching the pre-match preparations (it seemed to consist mostly of Madam Hooch yelling at people) when there's a jostling in the crowd behind him. Not thinking much about it, he exclaims in surprise when Arthur Pendragon, resplendent in his Gryffindor merchandise turns up at his elbow.

“Arthur!”

“Yeah?” the young man replies like its no big deal that he's in the enemy camp, repositioning the gold and red flag around his shoulders.

“What in Old Merlin's name are you doing here?” Merlin demands, the glares and mutters of the surrounding Slytherins not going unnoticed.

“Gwaine doesn't hate Potter at all, so doesn't get why I keep moaning about how he got onto the Quidditch team for doing a backflip on a broom outside McGonagall's window. Please. _Anyone_ can do that!” Arthur scoffs, and Merlin wisely decides to not mention that he, Merlin, can't do a backflip on a broom, let alone bloody balance on one.

Stórie growls on Merlin's shoulder as far away from Arthur as she can get and says _you humans need a stick to do a backflip? Watch this_ before crouching slightly on Merlin's shoulder (once she knew she had his attention) and doing a neat backflip, landing exactly where she took off with minimal clawing of Merlin's robes (he'd started complaining about the six neat slashes on his shoulders from her claws, to which she replied _not cat, can't retract_ ). After clapping at his dragon's trick and leaving her puffed out with pride on his shoulder, Merlin turns back to Arthur.

“You might want to leave, from the looks on the faces around here, you're going to get jinxed.” the Slytherin tells the Gryffindor, who shrugs nonchalantly.

“Like to see them try.” Arthur replies egotistically when a blonde haired prat comes shoving his way to Arthur's side, and Merlin groans.

“Did I hear a fellow Gryffindor of all things, hating Potter too?” Draco Malfoy demands of Arthur, who, looking taken aback, just nods. “Welcome to the club...?”

“Arthur Pendragon.”

“...Arthur.” Draco says, holding out his hand for a shake, and Arthur fails to notice the subtle headshakes from both his best friend and his dragon, before taking Malfoy's hand and shaking it briskly. “What are you lot glaring at?” the blonde asks the surrounding crowd and Crabbe and Goyle crack their knuckles menacingly while Merlin facepalms and groans. The glaring Slytherins suddenly find other things to look at, whether it be their feet or the cloudless blue sky. “That's what I thought. These two are now under my protection, got it?” Draco demands, and without seeming to help it the entire Slytherin stand of supporters nods in unison. “Good.”

Merlin decides he's no longer part of this and starts watching the Quidditch pitch while Stórie moans _i'm boooooooooored and coooooooooold_ and bounces up and down on his shoulder in impatience. “Hush, Stórie, it's starting soon, look, here comes the Gryffindors.” Merlin says to placate her, as the supporters erupt in wild cheers. Seconds later the Slytherins appear and Merlin is absolutely deafened by the screaming and shouting from the people around him. They watch as the players surround Madam Hooch in a ring, hovering on their brooms, red on one side, green on the other. The coach says something those in the crowd can't hear and the Quaffle comes soaring up into the middle of the circle of players, and with a blast from the owl-like Professor’s whistle, the game starts. Merlin feels the exact moment she spots it. _Whatisthat?_ She exclaims in a rush as the Snitch comes zooming past her nose, flying slower than usual, as if making sure she sees it. _Iwantit._ Is the only warning she gives before taking off from Merlin's shoulder. Too slow though, because the powerful young warlock was expecting it, and grabs her by the stomach.

“Oh, no, not today.” he grits out through clenched teeth while trying to keep her wriggling body close. “Arthur? Bit of help?” Merlin asks, but his friend is chatting to Draco about something (typical) and distractedly hands his friend his scarf. At first Merlin is quite derisive of it, but then gets an idea. Quickly looping the scarf around the same spot his hands are holding her and tying a knot, Merlin makes a makeshift leash for his wriggling dragon. As soon as Stórie feels him let her go, she goes zooming off... only to be yanked back once she reaches the scarf's extent. _Merlyyyyyy_ she says sadly, and hovers in the air just above his head, Merlin with an iron grip on the end of the scarf. She's still focused on the little golden orb like a cat watching a laser pointer and snaps at it whenever it flies close to her face. Oh yes, it was definitely taunting her and it would _pay_. As soon as she wriggled out of this stupid cloth thing.

The game goes on without much incident, the teams scoring, while Harry Potter just hovered in the air above the pitch. Merlin wouldn't be surprised if he was picking his nose or something up there because the Snitch was mostly buzzing his dragon and the stupid Seeker hadn't even noticed! The insanity continues until Harry finally notices the taunting golden orb and gives chase. Somehow the golden devil seems to know it's being chased and zooms off. Stórie snaps through the scarf like it's made of butter as soon as the Snitch flies away. It would be hilarious if the situation wasn't somewhat serious, a lot like the Muggle cartoons Arthur and Merlin would watch on Sunday mornings when much younger. The Snitch was in front flapping it's golden wings as hard as it could, Harry Potter right behind it, right arm outstretched to catch it, and his dragon bringing up the rear, incidentally also flapping her golden wings as hard as she could. It's all over once Harry _stands_ on his bloody broom and flips over the Snitch. Stórie puts on the brakes in midair and just hovers, head tilted to the side as Harry appears to be trying to throw up. Arthur and Draco have abandoned their conversation and are watching the events unfolding as intently as Stórie was watching the Snitch seconds ago. The Seeker retches a few times until the Snitch comes flying into his palm to a collective “eeewwww” from those watching. However, before he can close his fist and properly catch the little golden ball, something else fast and golden comes flying in at full pelt and snatches the Snitch from Harry's palm. Stórie comes proudly flying back to Merlin, the look on the little dragon's face as proud as it can be with a struggling golden ball flapping its wings furiously between her front teeth.

Chaos reigns on the pitch as people try to work out what in world just happened and Merlin first tries to extricate the Snitch from his dragon's jaws, but she jumps down to the ground, couches low under her warlock's robes and growls. She wasn't ever giving her kill up. Merlin gives up once he realises he's fighting a losing battle and grabs Arthur by the scruff of the neck with one hand and reaches down, scoops Stórie up with the other and starts wrestling his way through the crowd, trying desperately to get down to the pitch and explain what happened as fast as possible. It takes about twenty minutes, but Merlin and Arthur get to the pitch and run towards the little group of confused people surrounding Harry consisting of Madam Hooch, the Slytherin Captain and most of the Gryffindor team sans Wood, protesting loudly, the teacher desperately trying to gain control of the situation.

“Madam Hooch?” Merlin asks shyly and the eagle-eared teacher hears her name and pushes her way through the shouting Weasley twins to stand in front of the two best friends.

“What?” she demands in her usual, brusque way. Merlin gestures helplessly down at his growling dragon, swivelling her head from side to side as if expecting enemies to come from all sides and steal her prey. “Oh.” the Quidditch teacher says. She thinks for a second or two before seeming to come to a decision and blows an earsplitting couple of seconds on her whistle. Blessed silence reigns. “Thank you, I can finally get a word in edgeways.” Hooch says, before turning to the Seeker. “Potter, the rules are that you have to hold the Snitch for at least thirty seconds before the points go to your team. We can't seem to get the Snitch away from that little dragon...” Merlin shakes his head vehemently to back up her statement, “....so the next logical thing would be for you to hold the thing holding the Snitch for thirty seconds. Fair?” Without waiting for an answer she deftly plucked Stórie from Merlin's arms and dumped her in Harry's. “Thirty seconds, Potter.” she reminds him, and Harry gingerly repositions Stórie onto his arm like Hedwig (Merlin inwardly facepalms because one of the first chapters in _Dragon Training For Dummies_ details how dragon claws and owl claws are very different, ergo owl claws are longer and thinner, specifically made to hold onto branches and, incidentally, people's arms, where dragon's claws are mostly used for picking stuff out of their teeth and scratching behind their ears.) Stórie nearly topples to the ground and breaks the thirty seconds before Merlin runs up and supports her with his hands on her back and under her bum. _Thank you Merly_ he hears in his head, and he just nods. It's not long before Hooch says “time!” and Harry, with a fairly disgusted look on his face, hands Stórie back to her human, muttering “keep a leash on your dragon would you?”

Merlin's eyes flash dangerously, and he opens his mouth to retort, but Harry's dumped Stórie upside down in Merlin's arms, and her wing is getting crushed, making her cry out and, also, set the Snitch free, which shakes off its wings, splattering those close by with dragon spit, and flying off in a huff. Arthur recognises the signs of anger in his best friend's face and takes him by his elbow. Ron and Hermione have somehow materialised at Harry's elbows, identical glares on their faces and folded arms in their body language. Merlin only allows himself to be led away because he's too busy repositioning and then snuggling Stórie to his chest. She looks up at him with watery purple eyes and he can't help but press a kiss to her forehead. “You're alright, and I'll never let that mean wizard hurt you ever again, okay?” he murmurs, trusting that Arthur will lead him back into the castle and not into a wall, all his attention focused solely on his baby. _'Kay_ she sniffles in his head, and he presses her closer to his chest. _Not crying because I'm sore... crying because prey got away!_ She wails in his head, and Merlin cannot help but roll his eyes for what has to be the fiftieth time today.


End file.
